


Winter Wings

by RiverWoman



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Fluffy drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 07:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverWoman/pseuds/RiverWoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imladris, two years after the destruction of the Ring, Elrond watches the first snowfall of winter. A time for reflection and cuddles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-ed by the lovely Beckymonster even though she a nasty cold at the time. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Dedicated to my old friend Nefertiti – my love for Mithrandír is almost as great as hers and to Beckymonster, who loves Elrond almost as much as me.
> 
> *The characters belong solely to the Tolkien Estate, I merely play with them, and I always put them back afterwards. Mostly. *
> 
> ***************************************************************************
> 
> To everyone who has left a comment or Kudos! - thank you very much.
> 
> ***************************************************************************

 

There is something magical about snow.

It falls from the sky and brings an unearthly silence to the land. Rain can be noisy and irritating. The wind can cause damage. The sun can create drought if too hot for too long. But snow, ah! gentle, white snow. It makes even the oldest Elf want to laugh and cavort in its downy softness.

Elrond was standing under a covered walkway as he watched the falling snow. It had been snowing in Imladris for three days. Large, white flakes drifted before his eyes, landing on the gardens and trees with a quiet elegance that he thought simply breath-taking. He stepped out into the elements and lifted his face to the sky. Sticking out his tongue, he caught a snowflake and tasted it. It was cold upon his tongue, but its flavour was winter. He laughed at the thought that you could taste winter. The white blanket stretched out before him. Pristine, virgin snow. Unmarked, unsullied. Not even a bird track crossed the whiteness. He had an urge to walk across it, to be the first to make his mark upon it. He stepped forward, then again. When he looked back, his footprints were there, not as deep as a man’s, but deep by Elven standards, and before him, nothing. He smiled to himself, and lifting his robes, took another step. Then another. Before long he had blazed a trail through the garden to the nearest gazebo. He entered the relative dryness and shook himself like a great hound. Snow fell from him: from his robes, from his hair. He was wet, his boots were sodden but he felt invigorated and he flung his arms high as he twirled around in delight, laughing.

So much had happened in the last two years, some bad, but also, good. Too many friends now lodged with Mandos. More were leaving Middle Earth to return to the Blesséd Realm. But there had also been great joy. Arwen was happy and pregnant with her first child, his first grandchild.

The Hobbits of the Fellowship had returned to the Shire and had ousted Saruman once and for all and the great replanting and re-building of the land they held so dear began in earnest. Indeed, only one year after the replanting of the Shire, the harvest had been the best ever known, and Imladris had been the recipient of much of that bumper yield. Master Samwise had married and his wife, Rosie, was expecting their first child. The Hobbits had visited often before the winter had set in and he delighted in their company. Frodo he knew, was troubled. His wound would never heal and he would carry its pain forever. Arwen had gifted her place on the White Ship to Frodo should he wish it. For only in the Uttermost West would he find any peace.

Bilbo was showing signs of aging now that the Ring was destroyed. He had lived quietly in Rivendell throughout the War and during that time, had completed his book _‘Translations from the Elvish’_ which ran to three volumes. It was the most complete history of the Elves to have been written outside of Eldamar and it meant that in the Halls of Fire, Bilbo had a ready audience if he ever wished to read from the book. Which indeed, was most nights. Bilbo was honoured amongst the Elves of Rivendell, not only for his part in the story of the War of the Ring, but because he was a first rate scholar and was very fond of starting ‘discussions’ in the Halls of Fire. Discussion that could become quite heated. Yes, Bilbo was going to be quite an addition to the population of Eldamar.

Faramir had wed Éowyn and he was proving himself to be more than an adequate advisor and Steward to the King. As for Estel, the weight of Kingship still pressed heavily upon his shoulders, but Elrond knew that they were broad and strong and he was growing into the mantle of Kingship. Éomer was King of Rohan and strong links were now forged with the horse-masters, as evidenced by the new brood mares now lodged in the stables of Imladris.

Legolas and Gimli were travelling the lands together. The strangest of bedfellows, but their relationship worked and worked well. In the brief time they had stayed in Imladris, Elrond had observed the fierce love and loyalty they shared with each other. Let any Man, Dwarf or Elf gainsay one of them, and the other would challenge the miscreant. Indeed, the Halls of Fire were quieter for their absence, as many an Elf found himself thrown hard against the wall, staring eyeball to eyeball with an affronted Legolas or staring down at an equally incensed Gimli. The pair had left for the Great Greenwood only recently, to spend this winter within the caverns of Thranduil. It would the first time Legolas had returned to his home since the War. How the King would regard his son and his choice of lover remained to be seen. But Thranduil loved his son and if Legolas was happy, then so would he be. Still, Elrond often thought that he would like to be a fly on the wall at that first meeting of King, Prince and Dwarf.

The snow stopped falling and the sky was clearing. Ithil peeped through a cloud. The light became ghostly and silver. The trees sparkled like Mithril and the ground shone in the moonlight. He leaned on the wooden rail and gazed out upon such beauty. The gleaming whiteness reminded him of someone.

Mithrandír.

His beloved husband. They had bonded on the Field of Cormellon after Arwen's wedding. They had stayed in Minis Tirith for a month after the wedding, but both wanted to return to Imladris. Not only to start the re-building after the attacks from Moria orcs during the war, but also to begin the preparations for their departure. Their love grew with each passing day. They were in tune with each other. They knew each other, the nuances and foibles that made living together both a challenge and a joy. They were soul mates, connected forever. And he loved the Istar. He sighed.

'So deep a sigh for such a beautiful night,' Mithrandír said, bringing his arms around the Elf and resting his chin on Elrond's shoulder.

'I did not hear your approach,' Elrond said, turning into the embrace.

They kissed, a deep lingering kiss.

'Snow does that you know,' Mithrandír said as they parted. They leaned against the rail together, shoulder and hip touching.

'Does what, melme?'

'Dulls ones approach. Useful when you want to sneak up on an Elf.'

Elrond slipped his arm around his husband's waist. 'And why would you want to sneak up on an Elf?'

'Oh, one has his reasons.'

'One does, does he?'

The Istar laughed. 'It is the only time I do get to sneak up on you. Even asleep you always know where I am.'

Elrond squeezed his husband. 'I will miss this when we depart,' he said.

'What? Standing with your arm around me? I should hope that you will find time to embrace me when we are living in Eldamar.'

'No, wizard! The snow. I shall miss the snow. Miss nights like this, when the earth is white and sparkles like gems in the moonlight, and our breath drifts like smoke upon the air. A silence fills the world and all of nature is enveloped in an icy beauty.'

'Ah. Yes, it is rather fetching.'

They stood and watched the night in silence. Their breath mingling in the frigid air, their bodies warm against each other.

'Come on.' Mithrandír grabbed Elrond's hand and pulled him to the edge of the gazebo.

'Taking me in already? My, my, you are eager tonight. Anyone would think that you had not loved me enough today.'

'You are too full of yourself, Elf.' Mithrandír led him out of the gazebo and into the middle of the lawn. 'Lie down.'

'What? You expect me to lie down in the snow? Surely you have not become as brazen as to ravish me in the middle of my own lawn?'

'Yes. And no,' and with that, the Istar fell back into a soft drift. 'Come on, you do it as well.'

'Do what? What are you doing except lying in the snow moving your arms and legs around?'

'You come and do it as well.'

'Will it make you happy?'

'Possibly. But it will make you even happier.'

'Very well. But if anyone sees me, I will deny everything and insist that I don't know you.' Elrond fell back besides his husband. 'Now what?'

'Now move your arms up and down and your legs in and out.'

Elrond did as he was bid. 'I feel very stupid,' he said.

'But you look delectable.' Mithrandír said, offering the Elf his hand. He pulled Elrond to his feet and linking their arms, walked forward, and then he turned. 'Look.'

Elrond turned and looked at the ground. He laughed and squeezed Mithrandír's hand.

'Hmm. Very ... artistic.' was all he said.

'I think so,' the wizard replied.

'Where did you learn such a thing?' Elrond said as he brushed snow from his robe.

'Galadriel showed me when she was here one winter.'

'My mother-in law showed you? I don't believe you.'

'Ask her.'

'I intend to,' Elrond laughed as he pulled Mithrandír close and kissed the tip of his cold nose. 'Come, time for a nice long bath to warm us up.'

'We could do any number of things instead of a bath to warm us up,' Mithrandír said and winked outrageously at his beloved.

Elrond smiled. 'And why would you think that a bath rules out all those _other_ things?'

The wizard opened his mouth to say something, but stopped.

'Exactly,' Elrond said, and raised his eyebrow.

They walked back through the snow into the warmth of the Last Homely House, arms wrapped around each other.

On the snow covered lawn, sparkling in the moonlight, lay the outline of two snow Balrogs, complete with wings.

FIN


End file.
